Portrait
by samanthabravo
Summary: Sawyer Scott is obsessed with superheroes, particularly the Hulk. So what happens when one day her idol turns up in her backyard? She asks him to stay, of course! Too bad her Mom isn't happy for the company. [Peyton/Banner]


**Portrait**

**_A Bruce Banner/Peyton Sawyer-Scott tale. Enjoy!_**

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**Chapter 1: The Sketchbook**

She found the tattered sketch pad as she was taking out the trash. Buried as it was at the bottom of the heap, she almost missed it. But she finally noticed the sharp corner jutting out of the bag, straining the plastic almost to its breaking point. She instantly knew what it was. Not only did her daughter never go anywhere without it, Peyton had spent her most of her youth carrying around a book of drawings just like it.

She untied the garbage bag and with a grimace, stuck her slender arm into the mess. The book was relatively unscatched. Her hand was a different matter entirely.

She walked inside with the sheaf of drawings and set it on the table while she went to vigorously scrub her hands. Once finished, she picked up the book and carefully thumbed through it. Drawings in black and white filled the page, pictures that seemed to almost jump off the paper. Her daughter had so much talent which begged the question… Why had Sawyer literally thrown that away?

"Mom, do we have any PopTarts left?" Sawyer asked, padding into the kitchen on little bare feet. At the ripe old age of seven, she was the spitting image of Peyton from her corkscrew curls to her knobby knees. However, her eyes were all her daddy's and sometimes looking into them was almost too much to take. Peyton couldn't believe it had been six months now. Six months since Lucas had left for work one morning and never come home. A drunk driver had stolen away the love of Peyton's life and her moods now often seemed to vacillate between homicidal rage and desolate grief.

"Hey, Shorty," Peyton said. "Yes, I think we've got some in the cupboard."

Sawyer started towards the row of cupboards when she spotted the book in Peyton's hands. "Hey, where'd you get that?" She asked, eyes wide, searching, _and_ accusing.

"I found it in the garbage," Peyton said. "Why would you throw out your sketchbook?"

Sawyer shook her head, her blonde curls bouncing atop her head. "I don't need it anymore," she grumbled. She moved to Peyton and tried to snatch it from her mother's fingers but Peyton held on tightly, just barely avoiding a paper cut.

"What's going on? You love drawing. It's your thing. You're so good at it too."

"I am not," Sawyer said, her lips pressed in a stubborn line.

"Are too. Now what's going on? And don't say nothing."

Sawyer sighed loudly. She slumped into a chair at the table. Peyton pressed her hand to her daughter's shoulder. "What happened?"

"Kevin Robbins made fun of me for drawing The Hulk all of the time. He said I made him look even uglier than he already is. He said I should get a new hobby because I suck at this one. Then he got his friends started up too and now everyone's calling me Hulk Girl at school."

"Oh, babe…"

Sawyer shrugged. "It doesn't matter. It's just a dumb hobby anyway."

"Hey, look at me."

"Mom…"

"Sawyer, come on."

Sawyer slowly turned in her seat to look up at her mother. Embarrassed tears shone in her eyes. Peyton set down the sketch pad in front of her daughter. "I am going to tell you something your dad told me once, a long time ago. He said, 'Peyton, your art matters'. And it did. It was a part of me. It was the perfect way to express myself when I felt confused or sad. If he were here, he'd say, 'Sawyer, your art matters', because it does. You can draw the The Hulk or a basket of fruit - whatever makes you happy; whatever makes you feel peaceful. Don't let the Kevin Robbinses of the world steal away your joy for something you love to do."

"You're right," Sawyer murmured.

"Not words I hear you say very often," Peyton said, giving her a daughter a little hug.

Sawyer turned to look at the sketch book. "I miss Dad," she said quietly.

"Me too."

They sat in silence for a moment, each lost in their own thoughts, in their own memories. Peyton could almost see Lucas standing at the stove making vegetarian stir fry because he knew "his girls" loved it, a smile on his gorgeous face. Their best friend Brooke used to call Peyton and Lucas "the broody blondes" but there had been little to truly brood over until Lucas didn't come home that night.

Peyton felt a familiar well of emotion rising up in her throat. Her eyes burned. She dabbed discreetly at her lids and averted her eyes to the picture before her. In the drawing, the huge, life-like Hulk was raising his mammoth leg, about to flatten a row of cars with his feet. He looked impossibly powerful. He was from all news accounts, though he had gone off the grid several years before and no one knew where he was.

"He looks really angry here," Peyton said, tracing his humongous fingers on the page with hers.

"Yeah," Sawyer said, perking up a little. "Really angry. Loki has just let a bunch of Leviathans loose on the city and Hulk's charging towards them."

"But those unsuspecting cars got in his way, huh?"

"Not for long," Sawyer said with a little smile.


End file.
